Archive of Our Own ^beta

It doesn't come as a surprise when Seungmin is the first one out of the car. 

The endeared laughs and shouts of ' don't go too far, Minnie!' get lost in the wind as he runs farther away, enjoying the green plains and the open, blue sky above him. There are already some props laying around for the music video— a door, some flowers, a desk— that he purposely avoids, instead opting to roll around a small hill with excess energy buzzing under his skin. 

He runs in circles for a while, occasionally throwing himself to the ground and rolling around the grass and dirt. He only stops for a few seconds to sneeze violently and in succession, shaking himself out of the momentary stupor it brings, before he's off again. Running and rolling and jumping.

He's vaguely aware of his tongue hanging out of his mouth, probably leaving a mess of spit around the smile in his face but, for just this moment, he doesn't care. This is the one opportunity he gets to let go and forget what normally holds him back. He made peace with this particular part of his instincts a few years back (which is majorly thanks to Chan), and the thought of not being his usual put-together self doesn't weigh on his chest anymore.

Or, at least, not like it used to. 

Sure, there's parts of himself that he still has to work through. That's why he keeps a diary, tracking his emotions and having a physical reminder of his slow but positive progress; why he doesn't protest when Jisung whines him into joining a cuddle pile; why he stopped fighting Chan when the older feels the need to rub his cheek to Seungmin's neck. It's the small gestures, the actions that maybe seem like nothing to others but mean everything to Seungmin, the ones that have helped him push forward. 

And now he's here, responding to the sudden burst of enthusiasm with absolute freedom. Feeling happier than ever.

It's a good thing he didn't get his makeup done or into the nice clothes the stylists have ready for him yet, they've learned it's best to let Seungmin run around and burn his excess energy out first. They learned the hard way during the filming of the Boxer video. 

By now, everyone is used to the five to seven minutes it takes for Seungmin to wear himself down, as they are to the sudden crashes and power naps he takes while he gets his hair done. 

It hadn't been like that from the start, the whole process had been one of learning from mistakes and building communication between the staff and them. With the company's confidence of debuting a group with three hybrids and putting one of them as the leader, one would think that they'd have done their research. Seungmin couldn't say he was surprised when it was clear they didn't.

He had been subjected to mistreatment his whole life, someone who's supposed to look after his well being assuming how his mind works wasn't a matter of if but of when. The incident at the park where they were shooting the street version of Boxer hadn't been their collective tipping point, far from it, but it was surely the moment that marked Seungmin the most. 

Part of it because of the scolding he had to endure, he doesn't think he has ever been yelled at and berated with such intensity before. But also because of how strongly Chan's protective instincts flared up thanks to it. 

Some part of him understood that Chan saw their group of eight as his pack, you had to be blind to not see the way he went out of his way to protect them and always look out for them. Yet, Seungmin had never been the sole focus of it. Jisung, Jeongin and Felix? Sure. Seungmin? Never. That is, until the manager told him to learn how to control himself, raising his voice loud enough to make his heart thunder against his chest in fear. 

Chan had stepped in, growling to the man's face with teeth bared and ears pulled back, keeping Seungmin behind him until the manager stepped away with both arms raised at shoulder level. 

Needless to say, a couple of important meetings had taken place and Chan made sure to relay the information they had neglected about hybrids very clearly.

Now the most he gets is fond sighs and a couple of head pats when he walks back to where the staff and the equipment are gathered. Someone passes him a damp towel to wipe himself down, another person instructs him to go meet the stylist who has his outfit, the manager gets him a cool bottle of water. He pays attention to half of it and mostly moves in autopilot, the enthusiastic wagging of his tail slowly receding as the sleepiness starts to set in. 

He's content. Fuzzy. Ready to tackle the filming for The View and have fun with the members once he has his proper nap. 

Seungmin stumbles into the little set-up the staff has for them, rubbing his eyes and desperately needing to lay down. At first, it was intended as a space to get him to freshen up and rest before the filming started—not just for MVs, but for any activity done in the outdoors— but it slowly evolved into something they all used to different degrees. If Jisung becomes jittery or if he stuffs his pockets with random trinkets, he has the full liberty to take a break or put his findings in a box the staff always have ready for him, for safety keeping. If Chan gets overwhelmed with the amount of scents or noise happening around, he lays down on some of the pillows scattered around and waits until his head isn't pounding anymore. 

And, even if the three of them make more use of it than the rest, the humans of the group also find themselves gravitating towards it in search of comfort. 

This time, the area is open with a detachable tent keeping the sun away, only with a small section covered where Seungmin guesses he'll be able to change into the outfit the stylists prepared for him. Normally, he just has to walk into it and greet whoever is working for him to get his clothes, being a little out of it doesn't pose well for a conversation. 

The staff is supposed to know that. It's a well practiced routine by now, but when he gets a bundle of clothes shoved into his chest unexpectedly, he startles badly enough to yelp.

"Get changed. We're not here to waste time."

The stylist snares at Seungmin and promptly turns away, ignoring him before he can even get a word out. 

Seungmin stands there for a few seconds, blinking slowly in confusion and trying to understand what just happened with his muddled, sleepy brain. He looks down to the soft clothes he's holding, then tries to catch the eye of any of the other stylists. All of them avoid him, but the one who has been with them the longest— a tiny woman with even tinier hamster ears on top of her head— hurriedly jerks her head in the direction of the small changing section. 

Hw understands the signal easily enough and clumsily walks over to get ready. He blinks past beady eyes, yawns behind a closed fist and tries valiantly to get to his senses.

It's not until he's changing his clothes as fast as he can that his instincts catch up with him. The sleepiness that was making his movements slow dissipates rapidly, and he becomes aware of every little sound the staff is making. 

It's in that moment when he realizes two things. First, the stylist that snapped at him is someone he has never seen before, she must be newly hired and hasn't had the complete introduction to how the dynamic with Stray Kids works; which brings him to the second realization: the clothes that were given to him don't have any of the accommodations he needs. The pants don't have the little hole that allows him to slip his tail through and the beret isn't spacious enough for his ears. They're simple, human clothes. 

He can't possibly wear them for the whole duration of the shoot. 

It might have been a little mistake, something that can be fixed quickly, Seungmin won't hold it over the stylist's head. It happens, sometimes there are mixups with the wardrobe changes, sometimes schedules are too hectic and things get swapped around. 

It's nothing to worry about. 

But when he steps out holding the pants to return them, Seungmin feels the dread inside his stomach grow. 

"Didn't you hear me? I said Get. Changed." Her words are laced with venom, dripping with discontentment as she makes her way towards Seungmin. 

Perhaps it's because he's tired. Perhaps it's because of how unfamiliar it feels to be met with aggressive words in a place he has learned to identify as safe. Perhaps it's the sudden and unexpected way it all hit him. He doesn't know, but his tail crammers itself between his legs without meaning to, making him flush from his ears to his neck in embarrassment. 

"I-I'm sorry, Noona, but there seems to be a wardrobe mistake. These pants won't fit me." His voice trembles and it's so unlike himself, Seungmin can't help the instant shame that washes over him. 

The stylist takes a few more steps until she's at arm's length from him, then promptly yanks the piece of clothing away, muttering something about 'incompetent children' under her breath. 

Seungmin's blood pumps with adrenaline.

There's no way none of the others haven't noticed the blatant show of disrespect, right? The woman isn't exactly discreet about it, she doesn't seem to care about who hears her or notices the way she's practically fuming as she ruffles around a clothing rack. 

Maybe he should talk to Chan and one of the managers. Even if it's not a big deal and the woman is probably just having a bad day, it's not an excuse to be so mean when Seungmin has done nothing wrong. They could also ensure that she gets the much needed information about how they work and their needs, not just for Seungmin's sake, but for Jisung and Chan's too.

Yes, he should definitely speak about it, it'll be better to do it soon so the whole problem can be resolved before it escalates. Seungmin has the right to voice when something goes wrong, that way he can ensure that-

He gets shoved again, now with more force, the bundle of clothing makes a small thumping sound against his chest when he's hit with it. The stylist makes sure to catch his eyes this time.

"Stupid mutt." 

Everything comes to a screeching halt.

Getting referred to by the animal part of you— Dog, in his case— is already pushing it. No one ever considers calling him 'Human', even if the term isn't correct either, it's always another version of the same insult or the one that actually describes who he is but used as an insult anyway.

'Mutt' is what people yell at him in the street, behind mocking snares or with their tongues hanging out of their mouth, making his existence a joke. 'Mutt' is what the other moms whispered to their children when he was in kindergarten and middle school, warning them against getting infected with rabies. 

It's what made him aware of how he would never belong in a world that didn't want him. 

He had seen the word— among others— being directed at him and Chan on social media, had heard it once or twice from trainees that didn't make the cut, had used it in one of their skz players as a statement. He's familiar with it, he's used to it. 

Hearing it from the mouth of one of their staff, somehow, feels like a totally different situation. 

And, even if he tries to convince himself that the tightness on his chest isn't justified, that it doesn't make sense to get worked up about it when he has been subjected to hate his whole life, Seungmin still felt lost. 

This team: his members, the managers, the staff and the producers, are supposed to be his safe space outside of his family. There shouldn't be a reason to pretend, not when he isn't in front of the cameras, not when these people are there to ensure his safety.

But it certainly doesn't feel like it at that moment. 

He can hear Hyunjin's laugh somewhere far away, probably joking around with Jisung or Changbin, and the knowledge that his members are still close by should bring him comfort. In a normal situation, it's always enough to take the edge off. But he's high strung. The pleasant sleepiness has completely disappeared and the previous elation he felt from running around transforms into an uncomfortable weight at the bottom of his stomach.

He should talk to Chan. He should say something immediately. He should, he should, he should. 

But he's being rushed away to get ready, hears all sorts of complaints about being behind schedule and, instead of searching for an instant solution as he should, he says nothing. 

He doesn't nap. He doesn't rest nor does he complain about it. He follows every instruction with his mouth shut, he puts on the uncomfortable beret that's not made to accommodate his ears and stays painfully alert throughout the whole ordeal of getting his makeup done.

He's a professional. He puts a smile on his face and steps out of the tent to go film. 

Seungmin would like to say he forgets about the whole ordeal once they start shooting and they all get down to their usual amount of ridiculousness. He listens to Jisung mop around because he's under strict orders to not climb any trees, there's a moment where he considers joining Hyunjin in making fun of him before Jisung inevitably throws himself at Hyunjin-

("Jisung, you're afraid of heights." 

"And? It's called facing your fears and growing to be the better version of yourself, Jinnie, you wouldn't understand." 

"Last time you climbed a tree, you got so high up you refused to come down and we had to call the firefighters to save your ass." 

"I don't know what you're talking about." 

"Oh yeah? Do you also happen to not remember how you clinged to the poor man and told h-?")

-but in the end, his mind is elsewhere. His instincts are responding naturally to what's happening around him and he's struggling to get a hold of them, something that rarely happens to him. He's always in control. A few harsh words and an insult from a total stranger shouldn't make him feel like this. 

But they are, and he's starting to become frustrated. The way the woman looked at him— that snare and disgust on her face— and the words she threw at him repeat constantly inside his mind. Was it something he did? Something he said? Did he act in a disrespectful way while his brain was all fuzzy and muddled? 

Was she the same way towards Jisung or Chan? Because the woman's problem was clearly over the fact that Seungmin isn't Human, why is she working with their band in the first place if she's not okay with Hybrids?

Chan notices his internal debate, because he always does. He has the nose and the ever-present natural urge to make sure every member of his pack is okay to do so. It doesn't come as a surprise and Seungmin doesn't startle when Chan very aggressively plasters himself to his back to shake him around a little, it's a display of what they've all come to acknowledge as 'wolf cuddles'.

Seungmin won't ever admit it, but being on the receiving end of them makes a part of him quiet down.

Which seems to be the exact opposite of the effect it has on Jisung, because not even five seconds pass before Seungmin can hear him running at full speed and jumping on Chan's back. It says enough about them when they don't flinch or protest over the enthusiastic display of affection. 

"Seungmin, you look like a wet sad puppy that was left outside in the rain." 

Jisung is a little shit. 

Seungmin struggles to get out of Chan's hold, as if he could ever do it by force alone, and when he inevitably fails he tries to turn around just so he can be within punching range with Jisung.

Chan growls playfully, probably because Jisung and himself are moving too much and it's getting hard to hold them both, but Seungmin still goes completely immobile at the sound of it. As if his day wasn't embarrassing enough. 

Jisung cackles joyfully, Chan makes a little inquisitive sound from the back of his throat, Seungmin wants to disappear. 

"Everything alright, Seungminnie?" 

And that should be his chance, right? Even if there's a camera pointed at them and Jisung is there to hear it all, none of that should matter. The footage can be edited out, Jisung will find out about it eventually and both of them are the best option when it comes to finding someone who understands .

But speaking up now would mean putting a stop to the shooting. Chan wouldn't let it resume until he's sure everyone is alright and the issue has been talked about, he's too protective to simply put it on hold until they finish. Jisung certainly doesn't look upset or put off, so there's a chance he didn't receive the same treatment as him. And they are behind schedule. He knows. He heard the staff talking about rushing things up because they need to take advantage of the sunlight. 

He doesn't want to waste anyone's time. 

He can talk to Chan later, privately and once he has gotten some rest. Waiting for a few hours won't make a difference. 

"Just a bit tired, Hyung. Didn't have time to nap." 

Chan hums, unpleased, and Seungmin brain tells him he did something wrong. He shakes the thought as soon as it manifests, that's the part of him he needs to quiet down in moments like these. Seungmin doesn't need his stupid instincts acting up.

"Try and catch some sleep between shoots, we won't finish until late." Chan nuzzles into his neck, raising goosebumps on his skin. Seungmin can only nod, he hopes his lack of a verbal response gets brushed off as tiredness, totally not because the words got stolen right off him by the sudden urge to listen and obey. 

He doesn't like where this is going. 

Seungmin doesn't get a chance to brood and berate himself over the lack of control he's having, because Jisung chirps, gets off from Chan's back and walks over to rub his nose with Seungmin's. It's better than getting bitten, but Seungmin still pushes him away with a grimace, not appreciating the way Jisung loudly whines in protest and goes off to cling to someone else. Probably Felix.

Chan willingly lets him go, not without patting his head softly a couple times, already moving away to the next filming location. 

Something inside Seungmin yearns to reach out for him. To cling to Chan's arm and assure himself that his worries and the weight on his chest isn't justified.

He does his best to squash those feelings down. 

It's stupid. Ridiculous. There's no logical reason to feel the way he does. 

It's fine. He's fine. Chan isn't going anywhere, he'll get the opportunity to talk to him later. 

But 'later' never comes.

For one reason or another, Seungmin never finds the space to approach Chan and tell him about what the stylist said.

Even if the interactions keep getting worse— the snares, the wardrobe mixups that start feeling like they're on purpose, an 'accidental' tug to his ears, the mutters about how he's a useless dog, the complaints about having to get rid of dog hair, the one time she stepped on his tail and proceeded to apologize profusely because the rest of the members were present— he never says anything. And the weight inside his chest that he has identified as guilt only grows. 

Because some part of him has always believed he's a nuisance with the amount of needs he has. Because he was made to believe from a really young age that he has to blend in with the humans and hide the attributes that makes it clear that he isn't one of them. 

It's like all the effort he put into accepting who he is was for nothing. It only takes one week for everything he built to come crumbling down in a mess of insecurities and second thoughts, for the affirmations he wrote on his diary to become dull and empty, for the freedom he allowed himself to have to dissipate.

It makes him feel terrible. 

The gnawing sensation only grows with each day that he neglects to speak to someone about it. Part of him was hoping for Jisung or Chan to experience something similar, for them to be braver than he is and make what the stylist's been doing known. Yet that only helps to make him feel more awful with himself. He should be glad no one else is going through the same thing, he should be happy that he's the only one receiving the onslaught of insults.

But sometimes, when he gets drafted as the last one to get his makeup done, he wishes for someone to see him. And it's a foolish thought, a selfish, self centered one that he has no right in having. He's playing the martyr in a problem he himself created, all he has to do is open his mouth and speak . 

He just has to utter the request to talk to Chan, and then he won't have any other option than tell him what's been bothering him.

Yet he fails. 

Again and again and again.

It's all about the metaphorical snowball inside his mind, accumulating thoughts full of doubt and self hatred and becoming bigger with every second that passes. 

Seungmin realizes it has gotten out of control when the manager picks him up one morning, patting his shoulder as greeting before the door of the van is being opened and he's getting ushered inside the car. It all comes crashing down in those minutes he spends alone, off to whatever schedule he has on his own, and realizes he's aching to touch someone. Or be touched. The urge burns under his skin, as if he has been neglecting the part of him that's always asking for reassurance and physical contact. 

Perhaps he has. 

The last couple of days have been a blur between the hectic preparations for their comeback and pretending like everything is okay. It's not exactly strange to notice there are several hours from his day missing from his memory, maybe he spent them sleeping or desperately trying not to whine pitifully to Chan or Changbin. Maybe he was too concentrated on repressing his instincts and forgot to pay attention to anything else. 

And it's his fault in the end, isn't it? The longing for someone to hold him is his own doing, it's the consequences of his own actions. It's not like everyone has been out of reach, he could've slotted himself beside Hyunjin, he could've held Felix's hand at any given moment, Jisung isn't someone to reject any kind of cuddles. 

So it's all because of him.

All because of a stupid insult.

All because he's a coward who fails to stand up for himself after a minimum inconvenience. 

And now, after the van stops and Seungmin walks inside a hair salon, he thinks this should definitely be where he puts a stop to it. 

The same stylist is waiting for him inside, the fake smile he has grown accustomed to seeing stretching her lips when she greets him and the manager. Seungmin listens to half of what she says, something about how this comeback in particular is a very important one for them, about how it's the time to make themselves known and some other inspirational things he doesn't bother to listen to. 

It all means nothing to him, he has heard the same thing repeated over and over again from a variety of people and he has grown tired of it. All comebacks are important, every single one of them should be an opportunity to show something new, all of them have something to offer. He doesn't see how it's so important to-.

"-which is why we've decided it's best to make a drastic change in your appearance." 

No. 

He doesn't need-

Seungmin doesn't need to mess with how he looks, does he? He's okay the way he looks. It's not… 

He's okay.

"Excuse me?"

The smile the stylist gives him is dangerous, it stretches her lips menacingly and it makes the hairs on his nape stand on end. 

"I don't mean to offend you, Seungmin-ssi, but throughout the years you've only gotten different shades of brown or spray paint for your hair. I think it's time to offer something new, multicolored hair colors for Hybrids is what's trending right now." 

No, no, no, no, no. 

Seungmin knows exactly what's considered a fashion trend right now, he has seen it on models and some idols that have decided to take on a more risky path. People who dye their hair and their ears a different color, people who leave their hair as it is but go for an eccentric color for their ears. 

It looks pretty, sure, of course, but Seungmin isn't completely sure that it's a safe practice. Perhaps it is for those whose hair is a naturally lighter color, it's easier to dye your ears or tail if you don't have to bleach them.

Which is why Seungmin has never risked changing his ears to a different color, not when they're naturally dark brown. 

He's not Chan, with the stark contrast of his all white fluffy ears and his mop of brown curly hair, able to experiment and do whatever he wants without the fear of damaging his skin. He can't do it. He won't. Seungmin is pretty sure it can be classified as putting his physical health in danger.

With his heart thumping wildly against his chest, he finds the courage to speak, "There's a reason why I don't- as long as my ears don't get dyed, it's okay, but I-"

"It's all in the interest of causing an impression, Seungmin-ssi," she interrupts, and Seungmin gets the sense the argument is already lost, "You need to be impactful, it's part of being in this career."

No, it's not, his health shouldn't be up to question. 

It feels definite, as if Seungmin doesn't have a say in it. Like his opinion doesn't matter. 

He's been avoiding speaking out for the last week, the words getting caught in his throat making him choke up with guilt. He thought once he managed to voice his doubts, everything could be resolved, but now that he finds the courage to do so, it feels like he's talking to an empty room.

He turns towards his manager. He'll understand, he'll know, "Hyung-"

"The company already decided on it, Seungmin, just get on with it."

Suck it up, pet, no one cares about what you want. 

Get over it, not everything is about you. 

Is the dog going to whine now?

The mutt thinks he has an opinion! 

Street scumbags aren't allowed to speak, or should I say bark?

Just accept it, what you say won't ever matter.

You don't matter. You don't matter. You don't matter. 

"Yes, Hyung " 

He has silent tears running down his cheeks minutes after the stylist puts the bleaching chemicals on his ears. 

He says nothing. 

The hours stretch, every second is filled with pain. Seungmin just wants it to be over. 

It would be easy to just grab his phone out of his pocket and send a simple message to Chan. It could be only one word. It could be just the location of where he is, he knows Chan would understand and immediately come to his rescue. 

Yet, he does nothing. 

Again. 

Like a coward. 

Because he's too aware of everyone looking at him, watching him and judging him for not being able to withstand something that several people have done before. For not being enough. 

Perhaps if he wasn't as boring and plain and simple, if his instincts weren't such a present part of his personality, if he wasn't the way he is, perhaps it would've been different. 

Perhaps he would've been able to stop all of this from happening. 

But the snowball keeps growing, keeps rolling down an infinite hill filled with his mistakes, waiting to eventually crash and destroy and collapse. And he does nothing but watch silently, with the burning sensation growing stronger with each moment that passes, feeling miserable and stupid and dumb and pathetic.

It's with deep shame that he realizes he only wants Chan to hold him. He wants him to engulf him in his arms, press him against his chest and nuzzle his hair. Chan would huff softly, he would put too much pressure around him and Seungmin would consider telling him to ease a little, but in the end he wouldn't say anything. Because he likes the comfort, likes the aggressive way Chan shows affection. He misses and yearns for it with such intensity it makes his skin tingle. 

But, at the same time, he's also the last person he wishes to see. 

What would he think of him? Would he be swarmed with worry or disappointment? Would he hold Seungmin in his arms like he hopes for or would he start telling him off for his stupidity? Would his eyebrows scrunch up in preoccupation or would he go scarily blank in anger?

Seungmin doesn't think he can handle anger at the moment, he doesn't think he can handle knowing he let anyone down. 

And maybe it's due to his own subconscious trying to protect him, but he doesn't even think about protesting when the stylist orders him to tuck his tail inside his pants and his ears beneath a beanie. He just obeys and listens. Bows down and pretends pain doesn't ignite with every movement he makes. And no one is angry, no one is sneering, no one reminds him of how many choices he doesn't have.

It's okay, he just wants to go home.

The ride back feels infinite. Every time the manager stops at a red light, Seungmin feels the burning on his tail flare up, pulsing every second with more intensity. At least his ears can rest a little, he'll worry about putting the beanie on once the car stops and he has to make the excruciating journey to the dorm. 

He tries really hard to pull his attention somewhere else, all in the valiant attempt to get distracted from the pain, but the bumps in the road don't make the job easier and Seungmin finds himself hoping and praying to just get back home.  

It's awful how the spare time gives his mind the chance to turn against him. The 20 minutes it normally takes to get home become twisted and elongated. Insufferable. It's more than enough to have him question and berate himself over every little decision he made for the last few weeks.

If he had spoken to Chan, none of this would've happened. If he had voiced his doubts about the new stylist, everyone else could've at least paid attention and perhaps called Seungmin on his bullshit way earlier. Hell, he could've waltzed into Hybrid Resources with a half-assed statement of what happened and that alone would've put an end to all of it. 

But he didn't do any of it. Because he's a coward who didn't want to bother anyone, least of all the newly hired staff or, god forbid, Chan. And now he has to suffer through the consequences of his actions. It doesn't matter that he didn't want to pull Chan into it, because now everyone will see the evidence crystal clear on top of Seungmin's head and instantly know something is wrong. 

All he wants to do is curl up with his bedsheets and ignore the world around him. Just for a few minutes. Just until he manages to pull himself together and finds the courage to tell someone the truth. 

Realistically, he knows he won't be able to do it. He has to confront Chan as soon as possible, or maybe find someone else to talk to so he doesn't have to look at Chan's worried and sad eyes when he inevitably starts to blame himself. Perhaps going to the dorm isn't the best idea, but Seungmin isn't about to turn down the comfort of familiar smells and the general atmosphere of being home. 

Of safety. 

He wants to feel safe. 

No one will be there to witness his breakdown, after all, he can peacefully keep on blaming himself for at least one more hour until he has to talk to one of his members.

It's fine, he'll be fine. He'll get through this just fine.

Nothing is fine.

Seungmin stands in front of the elevator, staring at the notice he forgot was there. The 'out of service' line mocks him, proving that it won't go away and the elevator won't be magically fixed by Seungmin's wholehearted wish.

He almost wants to start crying. His eyes start to water, a knot starts to rise in his throat and he gets the annoying tingling sensation on his nose that signals he's one wrong move away from sobbing. Seungmin is mortified by it but he's alone, so he doesn't let the embarrassment simmer and tries valiantly to blink the tears away. He takes a deep breath and turns around, making his way to the staircase.

He makes the journey up to the dorms painstakingly slow, taking the steps one at a time and stopping periodically to wait for the burning sensation on his tail to recede to a tolerable amount. 

The original anger and frustration he was feeling for himself has long receded, maybe it happened when he first saw the elevator notice, maybe it was twenty steps ago, he doesn't care. The only thing that's present in his mind is how much he yearns to be held, have his head patted, perhaps some belly rubs, a half hearted high five. Anything. He's so overwhelmingly sad he'll take Minho flicking his ear teasingly if that's what's available. 

But no one is home and no one is waiting for him. 

He must look pathetic. Probably smells like it too. Dragging his feet over the last few steps and then making it down the hallway towards their door, leaning against the door while he punches the code in with resignation. Getting hit with the familiar scents of home instantly takes some of the stiffness off his shoulders, now all he has to do is take his shoes off, drag his bag over to his room and carefully take his beanie off and untuck his tail from its hidden place inside his sweatpants. 

It's okay. Those are only four things. After that he can finally lay down, cry a little and take a nap. Alone. Maybe he can steal one of Hyunjin's hoodies or a plushie from Jisung's nest, maybe even-

"What are you doing?" 

Seungmin doesn't shriek. He doesn ' t but it's a close thing. He whirls around, away from the shoe rack, as if he doesn't instantly know whose voice it is.

It's just his luck that Minho is home, currently wearing an apron with a spatula resting in the front pocket, looking at Seungmin with one eyebrow raised, amusement all over his face. Or maybe it's suspicion. Seungmin can't tell over the rapid beating of his heart and the increasing panic in his head. 

He should've realized he wasn't alone, he should've smelled Minho before he started to lower his defenses. He was too caught up in the familiar comforting smells to pick apart the now obvious scent of cooking food and Minho's presence all over the dorm. 

Minho is starting to get impatient for an answer and Seungmin doesn't even know where to start. If he looks as pathetic as he feels, this battle to keep on hiding is lost before he can even begin.

And, because he's tired and overwhelmed and stupid, he blurts out, “I thought you were at the company.”

Obviously, it's the wrong thing to say. If Minho was suspicious before, now he's completely convinced something is off. 

“I was." He says, eyeing Seungmin up and down, lingering on his beanie. Seungmin gulps. "You’re acting weird.”

A nervous, shaky little laugh leaves his lips, so unlike himself he almost cringes at the sound. He racks his brain for something to say, moving his shoes out of the way to not add to the piling mess at the entrance, fiddling with the strap of his bag and trying very hard not to wince at the feeling of his tail brushing against the back of his leg. All in an effort to appear busy. 

But, of course, none of it is enough to fool Minho. Not him. He's scarily intuitive and, while most of the time he leaves it alone and finds a non-conspicuous way to pamper them, this time it seems like he's going to immediately intervene. 

Seungmin doesn't know if he should be endeared or terrified by it.

"Ah, Hyung, I'm just tired. I'll go take a nap and-" He gets cut off immediately by Minho stepping in his path when he tries to make his escape. It's not like he expected his plan to work, but his heart races all the same.

"Kim Seungmin, what are you hiding?" Minho says, like a threat. 

Seungmin became immune to his narrowed glances and seemingly cold expressions a long time ago, for all of Minho's staged disdain on camera, he doesn't do a great job at pretending when they're all tucked away from the eye of the public. 

Yet, his tone of voice and the way he starts to take one step forward for every step back Seungmin takes, sets off the irrational, instinct-ridden part of his brain. It's stupid because he logically knows Minho means him no harm, but the mental defenses he has been battling to keep up for the past weeks are starting to crumble down, allowing the sadness and jittery nervousness to seep through the cracks.

If his tail wasn't tucked uncomfortably inside his sweatpants, perhaps Minho would've picked on his upset mood way quicker. He would've known Seungmin isn't up for words edged with annoyance or the challenging quirk of his eyebrows, almost as if he's daring Seungmin to keep on lying so freely to his face. 

Seungmin understands Minho, knows how caring he is to all of them and that his way of expressing his affection is just different from what people deem as acceptable. The unwavering stare and the strength in which he's talking to Seungmin are only examples of his worry, nothing else. 

Yet, his tail still crams itself between his legs, his ears flatten against his head and there are small tremors slowly starting to shake his body. Seungmin hates it. Hates how his instincts immediately respond to Minho as if he's a threat who's willing to harm him, someone he must submit to and cower from. 

He had gotten away with hiding his flinches and his increasing apathy over playing around and chasing the others around. No one has noticed his lack of appetite, of energy and general will to get off his bed in the mornings, it all fell down under the stress of an incoming comeback. 

This isn't the way he wanted for things to come to an end. 

It had to happen sooner or later, he was aware, but he was expecting it to go down under his own terms and when he felt ready. Approaching Chan with his concerns was something he already decided to do. This confrontation is unexpected and Seungmin doesn't know how to even begin explaining.

In a last nervous attempt, he tries to reassure Minho that everything is fine while he shuffles uncomfortably, all in the effort of getting past Minho and into his room. It's fruitless and dumb and straight up desperate. Seungmin always prides himself on his logical thinking and problem solving, it's funny how it only takes a few bad decisions to see it all fall apart. 

In a quick movement, Minho's hand brushes against his hidden ears when he yanks the beanie off his head. It was an accident, Minho had no way of knowing that the mere touch of the hat on his scalp and tender skin is enough to constantly have him close to tears.

A yelp that leans more to an animal sound than to a human one breaches his lips, impossible to prevent with the way his ears twitch and absolutely burn under the harsh treatment. 

Minho looks at his ears in surprise. Then in confusion. Seungmin gulps.

"I thought your ears were too sensitive to bleach them." He says slowly, blinking repeatedly in the way he does when he doesn't understand something. 

Seungmin's heart hammers violently against his chest and, as if his fight or flight instincts aren't going crazy, he speaks with as much calmness as he can muster, "They are." 

He doesn't dare to look at Minho in the eyes, but he sees the movement of his arms when he brings them up to cross them against his chest, sees the way his posture shifts and knows Minho is about to call him out. 

There's no way he'll leave the matter alone and Seungmin isn't making it better. 

"You better have a great explanation for this, Kim Seungmin." He snaps, and Seungmin immediately starts trembling.

It's nothing violent, nothing overly noticeable, Seungmin is barely holding himself together after the emotional battle he's been fighting and losing, yet he's sure Minho will be able to see it. 

It's not his fault Seungmin is just too vulnerable right now, too susceptible to the idea of disappointing anyone. In the end, the only thing he wants is to avoid any more misunderstandings, he already messed up badly, he just wants for Minho to know and understand he didn't hurt himself willingly.

Easier said than done.

"I… I- I didn't…" he gestures wildly, "The company wanted- I wasn't -" 

He cuts himself off with a desperate huff. He's always so careful with what he says, he organizes his ideas before he speaks, he prides himself in it, but everything is becoming jumbled up inside his mind. Nothing is happening the way he wants to and it frustrates him. 

How will Minho understand if he can't even speak coherently? He'll probably make him snap out of it, he'll tell him to get his shit together and start making sense. Minho doesn't tolerate nonsense when it comes to serious matters, he only accepts straightforward answers so he can immediately find a way to help. He won't stand for his useless stuttering.

Except, that's the self deprecating part of him talking, because Minho wraps a hand around his arm and squeezes gently, raises Seungmin's head with a touch to his chin and makes brief eye contact. Minho stares for just a few seconds— probably reads the pain and hurt and humiliation behind Seungmin's eyes with that weird intuition of his— before he averts his gaze towards his ears, his hair and, finally, his out-of-sight tail.

"Take your pants off." Seungmin blinks, Minho looks at him dead serious, "Come on, you're going to hurt yourself more if you keep them on."

Right.

Yeah. 

That makes sense. 

He goes to obey, grabbing the waistband of his sweatpants and carefully lowering it, trying his best to not rub the material against his tender skin but ultimately failing at times. That is, until Minho decides to do it himself and helps him in tugging down the clothing until it's bunched at his feet. 

Minho is tender in the way he gently coaxes him into lifting his legs one at a time to get his pants all the way out. He's soft when he takes one of Seungmin's hand in his own and starts directing him inside the dorm, not saying a word when he leads him into the bathroom and simply points at the toilet lid before he begins ruffling through the cabinets. 

Seungmin doesn't question him. He simply follows his directions and sits down as he was motioned to do, his tail lays limp behind him, no longer burning but aching absentmindedly.

Shortly after, Minho makes his way to him, holding open a small tube of something and scoops some of the substance with his fingers. Seungmin realizes what it is when Minho reaches for his ears carefully, coating the balm over his skin with delicate fingers. 

The touch combined with whatever properties the balm has soothes his skin and, as much as Seungmin would like to melt against Minho, insecurity still gnaws at his insides, urging him to not bother his Hyung with something he could do himself. 

That's why he tentatively extends his hand for the tub, an excuse ready to be uttered, "I can-"

But Minho swats his hand away, doesn't even glance in his direction, too concentrated on working absolute magic on his damaged skin.

"Don't be ridiculous."

And that's that.

For the next few minutes, all that can be heard is their combined breathing and the repeated action of Minho tending to his ears, sometimes stopping in the middle of it to gently massage Seungmin's scalp or his temples. He does all of this with practiced ease, as if he isn't putting any thought on it when Seungmin knows his mind is working a mile a minute, a direct contrast to how his own has been quieting down for the first time in a week. 

It's the constant physical contact, he reasons, the euphoria of being pampered even when it's in a less than ideal situation. If his tail didn't hurt so much, it'd probably be slowly wagging from side to side in elation, betraying how much joy it brings him to be taken care of.

He almost wants to lean against Minho, nuzzle his shirt only for a short while. To get the edge off. To squash down the inner part of him whining and begging to be coddled and petted and touched, but he's still on edge over it. He doesn't want to let his instincts take over so easily after a week of repressing them, he doesn't know what will happen if he lets himself go. 

So he stays still. He stays quiet until Minho decides to break the silence.

"I'm sorry." He says with finality, and it takes Seungmin off guard.

"What for? I should've said something before it happened." It's the truth, all his guilt serves for nothing because, in the end, all of it is his fault. Minho doesn't exactly disagree.

"You should have, I can't wait to hear the story behind why our puppy who always lets his opinion be known didn't put a stop to something that was clearly going to hurt him," Seungmin's ears press themselves against his head, effectively chastised. Minho sighs and shakes his head, "But I shouldn't have yanked the beanie off with so much aggression when I knew you were hurting somehow, I'm sorry for that." 

Seungmin nods, a knot in his throat preventing him from saying anything else and Minho doesn't pressure him for an answer. It's okay, he keeps on working with the balm, eventually signaling Seungmin to stand up so he can start giving the same treatment to his tail. 

Seungmin's blush is constant all the way through, embarrassed beyond measure. Minho is meticulous and unbothered, because of course he is, and it somewhat helps in quenching the gut-twisting shame that started to simmer inside him. 

It's only once he's sitting down on the toilet lid again, that he finally opens his mouth to start the explanation Minho is patiently waiting for.

"It's been happening for a while now…" but he loses courage half way through. Minho is not having it, he simply looks at him with one eyebrow raised while he rinses his hands.

"Go on, don't get pouty on me now. I can't help you if you don't tell me." Seungmin almost protests, almost launches himself in the kind of banter he always has with Minho because he's most definitely not pouting. 

Except he is.

His face goes up in flames all over again and Minho, the bastard, chuckles, greatly entertained. 

And now that his pride took damage, he has to push through the explanation whether he likes it or not. Whether it makes him want to whine and hide and get hugged or headbutt Minho, he has to. He already started talking anyway.

"The new stylist has been… not nice to me, since the shooting for The View and it's been slowly escalating, I guess. I tried to say something against getting my ears bleached, I swear, but they wouldn't- they didn't… I tried. I promise." The edge of a frustrated growl rises at the end of his sentence and Seungmin deflates. Minho is just trying to help, he doesn't need his attitude on top of his problems. "I was going to tell Chan-Hyung today, I just didn't expect anyone to be home." 

Seungmin winces, but Minho doesn't seem to find his words offensive, instead he's just leaning against the sink with his arms crossed, the frown back on his face.

"Why come home at all? You know Hyung lives at the studio."

"Well, my ears and tail burn like there was acid directly poured on them, so I planned to maybe squeeze in a crying session before I headed there." 

Minho rolls his eyes, says something about Hyunjin rubbing off on him, and takes his phone out of his pocket. "Here, text him."

Seungmin instantly panics, "Right now?!"

"Yes, right now, Seungmin. I'm not letting you stall on this any longer." Minho passes him his phone, his private chat with Chan already open. 

The sight makes his heart race with anxiety and he has to take a few seconds just holding the phone, looking at the screen and half hoping for Chan to somewhat use his sixth sense and guess Seungmin is feeling miserable just so he doesn't have to send a message. 

It won't happen, obviously. This last week has been nothing but an example of how the world will keep on moving without him even if he's not ready for it. Chan won't magically come to his rescue, no one's going to speak up for him and Minho isn't going to hold back in forcing him to talk to Chan.

He's doomed. There's nowhere to run, at least the stress will eventually end after this.

Besides, Chan is always busy and rarely checks his phone while in the studio, he probably won't even see the messages until late. Seungmin is worrying for nothing.

Min-no

hyung, when are you coming home?

this is seungmin btw

The 'read' notification appears instantly. Not even three seconds later, he gets a response. Seungmin can't believe his luck.

Bang Chan JYP

seungmin?

why are you texting me through minho's phone?

are you okay? 

i planned to arrive home late, but i can be there if u need me 

Seungmin feels his chest constrict painfully with each message that Chan sends. He doesn't deserve his worry and his kindness, not when he has been hiding from him and pulling away from searching for his leader's comfort. When was the last time he spoke to Chan? When was the last time he allowed himself to curl on his lap just because he wanted to?

Has it actually been a week or has Seungmin been pulling away from Chan for longer? 

He whines lowly and, in the silence of the bathroom and the great acoustics of the room, it sounds loud and clear. He purposely doesn't look at Minho. 

He's taking too long to respond, the minutes are ticking by and Seungmin sees how the text bubble appears and disappears continuously as if Chan is debating whether to send another message or wait for Seungmin to answer. Shit , he must be so anxious right now, probably imagining a thousand different scenarios and worrying even more. 

Seungmin does his best to quench Chan's worries or, at least, he tries.

Min-no

no 

everything’s fine

i just need to tell u something

but

it can wait

i promise

A beat passes. Minho's phone starts ringing with an incoming call. 

Seungmin panics.

"He's calling, why is he calling? What do I do?!" He whispers urgently to Minho, who looks less than unimpressed and simply takes the phone off of Seungmin's hand. For a precious, little hopeful moment, he thinks Minho will be a kind soul and deny the call. 

His hope lasts about three seconds. Minho doesn't hesitate to slide the green call button and bring his phone to his ear. "Hey, Hyung," he sounds so relaxed it makes Seungmin want to deck him. While he's swimming in nerves and anxiousness and fear, Minho only nods as if Chan can see him and waits for what feels like an eternity. "Relax, I’m here with him, he's not okay but he will be."

Somehow, Minho makes it sound like a threat. Seungmin shouldn't have let him answer the phone. Sure, Minho doesn't waste time and he's speeding up the process of him finally talking to Chan by being obscenely blunt and probably adding to Chan's worry, but at what cost? 

Minho nods to whatever Chan is saying, takes the phone out of his ear and extends it to Seungmin again, "He wants to talk with you." 

Yeah! No shit!

Now, Seungmin could totally stand up and make his escape. Locking himself in his room and hiding beneath his covers can only buy him an insignificant amount of time, but at least he wouldn't have to talk to Chan right this moment and risk doing something stupid. Like crying. 

But Seungmin takes the phone, looks at Chan's contact name and bites his lower lip. He has been berating himself for hiding all this time and, now that the opportunity to stop doing that has arised, he's only thinking about escaping. Again. 

He brings the phone to his ear.

"Hello?"

“Hey, Minnie-baby, want to tell Hyung what happened?” Chan's voice doesn't waver, he's all soft entonations over an open tone. Seungmin can hear the small smile in his words and that alone almost makes him break.

A whimper rises embarrassingly in his throat. Which is stupid and needy and absurd because it's not like he didn't see him that same morning. He doesn't have the ingrained instinct for a pack as strongly as wolves or fox hybrids do, even if he's a canine species, he shouldn't be feeling as if his insides are being ripped open because he can't be physically close to Chan. 

He swallows past the lump in his throat, “It’s- It’s nothing, Hyung. I promise it can wait.”

“Seungmin. It’s not nothing if it upsets you.” And Chan is so soft and willing and preoccupied for his pack, Seungmin can't possibly deny him something as important to him as knowing the state of those who are part of his care.

It wouldn't be fair, he tells himself, he'll talk solely for the purpose of making sure Chan's instincts aren't clawing at him. For Chan, and not for his personal motive of getting cuddles afterwards.

“It’s just… I had a problem? With one of the new staff today? And I- I only wanted to talk to you about that.” 

The line goes silent. Seungmin almost takes the phone away from his ear to see if Chan hung up on him, but a low displeased huff stops him from doing so, his own hackles rise in alert picking up the sudden sounds of movement from the other end of the line.

He can only be horrified at the way tears gather in the corners of his eyes, threatening to spill if Chan so much as utters a single word more. He pointedly doesn't look at Minho, suddenly enraptured with the strings of his sweatpants.

"Channie-Hyung?" He whispers, and it sounds more vulnerable than he meant to.

"I'm coming home." Chan says with a growl and hangs up. 

Seungmin freezes, wide eyed and scared. A tiny, annoying little voice in his mind whispers that he has made Chan mad, that he's on his way to scold him for hiding and keeping important information from him. 

For a moment, he believes it. The growl, the huff, the prolonged silence could all be clear signs of anger, but the reasonable part of him— the one that has been growing smaller and weaker for the last few days— tells him he isn't necessarily mad at him.

He still aches. 

He still blinks past his sorrow and puts an immensely conscious effort on not becoming a sad puddle of tears. His ears press themselves against his head, betraying everything he's been trying to hide. And he hates it. 

Seungmin doesn't realize Minho has moved until he's gently taking the phone from his hand and, in a rare display of affection, he cups Seungmin's face with one hand, rubbing his thumb against his cheek. There are no spilled tears to wipe, yet the gesture makes him light up on fire, makes his skin tingle and the threat of a breakdown even more present. 

Against his better judgement, Seungmin turns his face and nuzzles Minho's palm, inhales the scent of hand soap and the small remnants of the ointment he applied to his ears. It's perfect. The sight of contentment that escapes him is completely involuntary, and Minho only chuckles fondly, continuing his light caresses across Seungmin's face.

"Did something else happen? You're awfully on edge for just a problem with the new staff."

"My instincts are all over the place," he complains into Minho's hand, a whiny tone making itself known at the end of his sentence, "This is Hyung's fault, if he hadn't called me I wouldn't be like this." A lie. Both Seungmin and Minho know it.

"This is your own fault, you know perfectly well that holding yourself back always ends up in disaster." Minho tugs at his human ear, punctuating his words. Normally, he would hold the edge of his folded ears or flick them, when trying to annoy Seungmin, it's sort of nice to see he still finds an alternative given the circumstances.

Seungmin hides most of his face against Minho's hand. Perhaps he's hiding from giving an answer he doesn't want to, perhaps he only wants to take everything he can from the short-lived contact. Either way, now it's Minho's turn to sigh, only that his comes out more resigned and tired, as opposed to Seungmin who's just relieved.

"Come on, Puppy, let's wait for Hyung in the living room." 

Seungmin is sitting on the couch, eyes unable to leave the front door and ears standing on alert. Waiting. He doesn't know how much time has passed since the call with Chan ended, he didn't even think about calculating how long it would take him to arrive, his brain had fixated on the fact that he's coming back for him as soon as he entered the living room. At last, his instincts had caught up on him, and they won the battle. 

It's strange. He has only experienced this side of himself a handful of times, he sees it on Jisung often enough to understand the way it looks and how it works (they all have, maybe that's why Minho returns to the kitchen but never actually leaves him alone), but living it after so long it's a completely different thing. 

It feels liberating, in a way, because he's reaching that balance that makes him be who he is. He's not two, perfectly even, halves of two animals, he's not human and he's not a dog, he's one being. And feeling the whole extent of what that means, only serves to overwhelm him.

Because Kim Seungmin is always in control of his deeper instincts. He doesn't whine, he doesn't follow anyone around wanting to be petted, he doesn't give in to the need to submit to his leader. 

He never crosses the line that keeps him away from behaving more like an animal than human. 

He's not Jisung, who can't be left unsupervised when they go out if they don't want him climbing up a tree. Who can walk among that invisible barrier as easily as breathing, chirping to his heart's content and accumulating soft pillows and plushies to make a small nest in the corner of his bed. Never embarrassed, never hesitating a single move.

He's not Chan, who's always alert and ready to step up if any of them— any member of his handmade pack— is threatened. Who can growl as a warning as much as in a playful manner, wrestling with Changbin in their living room when Seungmin should be the one in his place. Possessively nuzzling Minho's neck until he's satisfied, completely disregarding that his scent won't stick to any of the humans for a long time, and moving on to continue scenting someone else. 

Seungmin only responds to his random explosions of energy and nothing else. It was a small indulgence. The one thing he permitted himself to have, the only breach to his calm and put-together facade.

And he knows and understands that it was only a small step towards accepting who he is, but it was supposed to keep the same pace for a while. He wasn't prepared to feel his chest constrict with each second that he spends waiting for the door to open, for his ears to flatten in apprehension, for the need to roll down to the floor and show his stomach and bare his neck. 

None of that was supposed to happen and he needs to be ready for when Chan enters. Mainly because he'll never get over the embarrassment of submitting for his leader, but also because he doesn't want to be a cause of worry. 

In the end, it doesn't matter how much Seungmin psyches himself up, how much he tries to breathe calmly and urge his mind away from the deep-rooted longing for what his instincts recognize as the head of his pack. Because all Chan has to do is burst through the dorm's door, take a single look at him, and open his mouth for his walls to come crashing down.

"Oh, Puppy." 

And Seungmin doesn't know what alerted such an immediate response. Perhaps he looks as shitty as he feels, or maybe the stark contrast of his bleached ears against his brown hair is enough to clue Chan in what went wrong. 

Perhaps, it's just because Seungmin has ignored the fact that Chan is always scarily in tune with all of them, able to pinpoint when their mood shifts a slightly bit and transforms into tiredness or sadness or stress. Chan has probably known this whole time that Seungmin hasn't been feeling okay, battling his urge to move around and run, yet didn't say anything, waiting for him to reach out as he always does. 

The thought makes his lower lip start to tremble, his hands start to shake where he has them balled up around the edge of his shirt. Chan is looking at him with wide, worried eyes from his place at the front door, not moving an inch because he's thoughtful like that. Seungmin wonders if his own instincts are flaring up too, screaming at him to approach him in the same way his own are whining for Chan's embrace. 

This time, he doesn't hold back the whine that builds inside his chest, " Hyung."  

Chan is across the room and on him in seconds, scooping him up on his arms, and Seungmin breaks.

"I- I'm sorry, Hyung. I'm sorry. I thought I c-could endure it, I promise. I'm sorry." He whines and whimpers and cries into Chan's shoulder, desperately clawing at him and searching to smash his face against his neck. 

Chan easily lets him, and holds him close to his chest, shushing all his attempts to apologize and instead rocks him from side to side, rubbing comforting circles on his back. 

Seungmin nuzzles his neck, perhaps it's a little aggressive and perhaps he occasionally delivers timid licks to his skin, but he's trying to drown into Chan's scent. To get as close to him as he can in the hopes that it will finally quiet down the longing inside his chest.

He only wants Chan to forgive him, to hold him and never let him go, to protect him against whoever wants to harm him. Just for a little bit, he indulges in it. He rests his head against Chan's shoulder and whimpers, not caring about the burning on his ears or the shame he'll feel in a few moments. 

He wants Chan.

"I'm here, It's okay, pup, don't be sorry. You're okay." Seungmin shakes his head and, as much as it pains him, he pulls away from Chan to look him in the eyes.

"I l-let the stylist… and then- then I didn't tell you. I'm sorry. I-" He needs Chan to understand, he needs… he doesn't want to be a disappointment.

But Chan always knows, and Seungmin should already know that. He should know that his leader will always hold him close and never let him go.

"I'm not mad, baby, not at you, okay?" Chan kisses his forehead, tender and gentle, eyes full of galaxies "I only wanna know how you're feeling."

Seungmin blinks, opens his mouth to respond and closes it again. Chan giggles and kisses his cheek, laughing more openly when Seungmin responds by headbutting him gently. He only then realizes Chan is sitting down on the couch, keeping him on his lap, holding him from the waist and keeping him safe.

But the answer to his question, he doesn't know.

Tired would be a spot on answer, overwhelmed too. He's been high strung on anxiety for so long, shaking with the nerves to finally come clean about what he's been hiding, he didn't think about vocalizing exactly what he feels. 

He hasn't written in his diary, he hasn't given himself the time to analyze his feelings. But, in the end, he can think of one single way to summarize what the past week has felt like.

"I… I missed you." He mutters timidly, Chan's blinding smile makes it all worth it.

"I know, I'm here now. You don't need to hide, not from me." Chan carefully threads his fingers through Seungmin's hair, mindful of his ears. His smile loses some of its brightness, becoming a sad little gesture around the edges, "You don't come to find me nearly as often as you should, Jisungie is a solitary species and he still gets his quota of cuddles. You need to listen to your needs, Minnie, there's nothing to be ashamed about." 

Seungmin whimpers, instantly getting shushed again. Chan presses his nose against his cheek and kisses his jaw.

"I know, Hyung, I- I just… you know how it was for me, you know it's not easy." Chan nods against him, pulls away and takes Seungmin's face between his hands.

"I didn't say it was, but I've seen how you only let yourself be in specific ways, the whole you is never there because you think you should hold back the bits you find unlovable." Seungmin's eyes water and, this time, the tears spill down his cheeks. Chan kisses them away and makes sure to look at him when he speaks next, "But I love you as you are, Minnie, I love all my boys in every sense of the word and there's nothing you can do to change that. I chose you to be part of my family, my little pup, I fall in love with you every day all over again." 

Seungmin let's out a watery laugh, he giggles and smiles widely, overcome with the growing fuzziness inside his chest, expanding with every kiss Chan delightedly presses against his chest. He doesn't hold back on pecking his lips, a mere barely-there press that somehow manages to mean the world for him. For the both of them, because Chan growls lowly on his chest and tightness his hold around Seungmin, he starts lightly nibbling at his jaw and occasionally licking until Seungmin is a mess of giggles and over enthusiastic yelps. 

Seungmin knows he's getting lifted seconds before it happens, he feels Chan's arms tense around him in preparation but it still catches him by surprise. Chan does it just to slam him against the couch— stopping just to reassure himself that Seungmin isn't seriously hurting— earning the upper hand by being on top of him, and starts thoughtfully scenting him. 

It's mainly a wolf thing, as far as Seungmin knows, yet he still goes boneless under the treatment. He lets Chan get his fill, only moving his head from side to side to aid him in his quest of drenching him on his scent. 

Chan presses a final kiss to his cheek and says, "As for the stylist, you don't have to worry about her anymore, I'll take care of it." 

Seungmin melts against the couch, finally completely at ease. Bliss is clouding his senses and, at the moment, there's nothing that can take it away. Not even Minho sauntering into the room, spatula in hand and mischief swimming in his eyes.

"Are you done? The kids are on their way." It's a welcome notice, perhaps more for Chan who's getting progressively more possessive. But Minho doesn't seem to realize it, because his first mistake is getting within arm's distance from Chan. He realizes his mistake once it's too late and Chan has already grabbed him by the wrist, "No. Wait. Hyung, I have soup on the stove. Hyung, I dont-" 

But it's useless, Chan is already pulling Minho close with a grunt and he has no other option than to let it happen. Seungmin giggles from his spot beneath Chan, not deterred from the glare Minho very pointedly shoots his way. 

Seungmin sees the exact moment Chan hears the rest approach, his ears flicker in attention and immediately lets Minho go, not caring when he makes his escape back to the kitchen where he audibly complains about his boiling soup. 

But Seungmin doesn't care, and Chan certainly doesn't either. The first one through the door is Jisung, all joyful and enthusiastic, with his tail all fluffed up from whatever schedule he was in. He spots them on the couch immediately and, being full of energy as he is, Jisung gasps in indignation.

"How dare you?! Here I am, busting my ass at some interview, keeping the cuteness factor up high all by myself and meanwhile you two! Here! Having a cuddle session! Without me! I always invite you to my nest, you ungrateful f- you bleached your ears?" Sometimes it's impressive the amount of air Jisung can get in his tiny lungs, all while being exuberantly animated. 

Chan is not having it. 

Jisung takes longer in making his way towards them than Chan in catching him on his arms, rendering him immobile before he starts scenting him. The little tufts of hair from Jisung's ears twitch a little until he gives in, visibly melting on Chan's hold and trusting him to support all his weight. 

At that moment, with Seungmin watching them happily lean into each other, he decides he wants to participate too. He wants Chan and Jisung to pay attention to him and, for a second, he second guesses if that's the right thing to do. If they even want him to intrude in their little moment, but Chan's words echo in his mind, reminding him that he's loved and wanted and cherished. That he doesn't have anything to be afraid of. 

So, with just a hint of doubt in his heart, he whimpers as quietly as he can. 

He gets their attention in a flash, Jisung even chirps in response and Seungmin's heart soars, making grabby hands to the two of them until Jisung is making space for himself beside Seungmin, curling his tail around them both like the fluffiest blanket he could ever have. 

Seungmin, very tentatively, turns towards Jisung and licks a tiny stripe up his cheek. He's afraid to get told off for his dog slobber, but Jisung only preens and chirps loudly, almost leaning on a bark, and gets all over Seungmin.

Chan grumbles, disgruntled, sets himself gingerly on top of the both of them and starts taking turns on nuzzling their necks, their cheeks and, in Jisung's case, the top of his head and ears. 

It won't be long before Chan leaves them to track down the rest of the pack, he won't be comfortable until he has scented every last one of them and they all know it. When Chan gets like this, there's no power in this world that can hold him back— not like they would want to stop him.

And it's perfect, in its own way. Seungmin still has things to work with, his confidence and learning to love himself for starters, but right now, all that matters is them. 

This group of people that he has learned to call his pack, his family, they're the center of his heart.